


I Dream of...Brian?

by a_quick_drink



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Reincarnation, genie!Brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom gets a big surprise when he accidentally releases an attractive genie who stirs more than lust in him. To free the genie from his centuries old bond of servitude, though, Dom needs to do something he's not sure how to do--fall in love with the genie...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Setting the last box of mementos on the workbench, Dom huffed a relieved sigh. He'd spent most of the morning sorting through the forgotten boxes instead of working on the Charger like he'd originally planned. He couldn't complain, though--he'd enjoyed all the childhood memories that came back to him as he dug through the treasures their parents had collected over the years.

He pulled open the flaps of the cardboard box and peered inside. This one was filled only with knick-knacks that barely registered in his mind. Except for the blown glass bottle their mother had kept on a shelf well out of the reach of small hands. He knew nothing about it, only that their mother had found it at an estate sale and it had been with their family ever since.

The blue and green glass was dull from years worth of accumulated dust, but the delicate gold accents still shimmered like new. Brushing a thumb over the dusty surface, he nearly dropped the bottle when a pair of eyes blinked at him from inside. He pulled the stopper out to see what was inside but got a puff of smoke in the face instead.

“Hello, master.”

Dom blinked at the smoking–literally, there were still wisps of turquoise in the air–blonde standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, grinning. Dressed only in loose pants made from elaborately patterned silk, he looked like he'd just fallen out of bed. The wide golden cuffs on his wrists, though, told a different story. _No, not real. Genies aren’t real._ Dom rubbed at his eyes with his fists but blondie was still there when he opened them. 

The genie cocked his head like a confused puppy. “Is something wrong, master?”

“No.” Dom wagged a finger at him. “Stop calling me that.”

“But that’s what you are.” The genie sidled up to Dom and threw slender arms around his neck, brilliant blue eyes staring expectantly at him. “My master.” The genie’s lips relaxed into a contented smile as he leaned against Dom.

Dom stared over the genie’s shoulder at the Charger, trying to think of anything that wasn’t the half naked stranger pressed against him. The guy was, well Dom wasn’t sure _what_ a genie was exactly, but he was human enough for him, and the comfortable warmth between them was getting too hot for him to handle in the already stuffy garage. 

He let the genie hug him for several more seconds before the intoxicating perfume of rose and a sweet, woody scent he couldn’t identify triggered a hazy image of a palace overlooking the ocean. Startled, Dom pushed the genie away. The genie's eyes widened, frightened. “Do you not like me, master?” He took a step forward, but Dom threw a hand up to stop him. “But, ma–”

“No!” Dom barked, pointing at the genie. “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but I’m nobody’s master, you got that?” The genie shrank back slightly and Dom immediately felt guilty for the outburst. He offered the guy a smile and lowered his voice. “It’s not that I don’t like you, we just don’t do the whole owning people thing, okay?”

The genie’s face lit up for a split second before it fell again as he furrowed his brows in thought. “But then what is my purpose?” he asked. 

_Ain’t that a question for the ages…_

Dom racked his brain for everything he knew about genies, which was unfortunately limited to what little he’d gleaned from all the times Mia had made him watch Aladdin when they were growing up. This guy looked nothing like that genie but maybe the principles were the same. “So you grant wishes, right?”

The genie nodded.

“Can I wish you free?”

“Well, yes, but I can only be wished free by someone who truly means it. Someone who,” he bit his lip and stared at the cement floor, “someone who falls in love with me.”

Of course it couldn’t be that easy. He could picture this guy in his bed no problem, but love? That was asking a lot under normal circumstances, particularly when his track record with the concept was shit. But the strange niggling in the back of his mind compelled him to at least try. They could be friends, that much he was sure of, which would hopefully be the start of something more.

“Do you have a name?”

The genie shook his head.

Humming to himself, Dom considered the athletic blonde in front of him. “How about Paul?” The guy wrinkled his nose, and Dom tried again. “Brian?” That got a smile. He gestured for the genie–Brian–to follow him out of the garage. “Okay then, Bri, let’s go find you some real clothes.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Is this really what people wear now?” Brian asked as he stepped out of the bathroom wearing the clothing Dom had given him. He gave the oversize t-shirt a tug and stared down at the stylized ’M’ graphic, frowning. “It’s so dull.”

“Nobody’s ever accused me of bein' fashionable.” His well-meaning sister had tried giving his wardrobe a bit of a makeover with the logic that it might make him more attractive, but his belief was that anyone who put that much stock into what he wore wasn't someone he wanted. Comfort first, cars second, family always. 

From his perch on the end of the bed, Dom scrubbed a hand over his mouth, smothering a laugh as he watched Brian nearly trip on the hem of the jeans. He’d given Brian the smallest clothing he could find but the poor genie still swam in them. Maybe he could sweet talk Mia into taking Brian shopping for clothes later. For now, though, a belt might help. 

Dom went to the closet and rooted around until he found a canvas belt. Not bothering to find out if the genie knew how to use one, he fed it through the belt loops and secured it around Brian’s waist, hands lingering longer than necessary. Brian watched him through a fringe of golden lashes, lips parted slightly. Whether invitation or imagination made no difference to Dom, whose heart stuttered on a beat as that same swimmy sensation he’d had in the garage threatened to return. Yanking his hands away, Dom stuffed them in his pockets and stepped away from Brian. What the hell was wrong with him? 

“So, uh, what were people wearing the last time you were out?”

Brian snapped his fingers and a tailored tailcoat, snug beige pants, and polished boots that went almost to his knees replaced baggy clothing. Messy blond spikes were now loose curls that Dom had a sudden urge to run his fingers through and find out if they felt as soft as they looked. Meeting Dom’s eyes with a knowing look, Brian’s lips twitched into a self-conscious smile before he snapped his fingers again and was back in jeans and t-shirt. 

“Now why didn’t ya just do that in the first place?” Dom teased.

Cheeks reddening, Brian ducked his head. “I...I like your clothes better." 

Dom’s stomach did a little flip, but he spun away before he could spend any more time being charmed by the genie. "So how can you stand being trapped in that bottle for that long?” Dom asked as he walked out of the room. 

Brian followed him down the hall and into the kitchen. “Not my choice. When my ma– When somebody puts the stopper in the bottle, I can’t leave until they pull it out.” He let his eyes fall to the bottle in question and gave a helpless shrug. “Genie rules.”

“But you can stay out if they let you, right?” Not that it sounded any more appealing than being trapped in the bottle. He couldn’t fathom living a life dictated by someone else; confinement. Life wasn’t worth living if you couldn’t experience it from behind the wheel of a car.

“Yeah,” Brian murmured, wrapping his arms around himself. His voice lowered to a whisper. “But sometimes they don’t let me back in.”

Dom leaned his forearms on the counter and glanced up, catching Brian’s gaze with his own. “That’s not gonna happen here. Maybe I can’t free you from being a genie just yet, but consider yourself free anyway. You’re your own master here." 

That bright smile returned when Brian thanked him, but an odd sadness washed over Dom anyway. What had Brian been through where he had to thank someone for common decency? 

How he could fall in love with this guy, Dom didn’t know, but he would find a way because Brian deserved so much better than this.


	3. Chapter 3

After several weeks of living under the same roof with the genie, Dom was certain he was falling for Brian. And how could he not with the younger man's exuberance and kindness and boyish wonder at everything this century offered? Even the moments where Brian would pull away out of fear were rare now, replaced with confidence and smiles that melted Dom's heart. He wanted to keep Brian safe under his wing; protecting not only his body but his heart as well. 

What bothered him, though, was the increasing frequency of the strange deja vu images. At first he'd written them off as dreams; his mind's way of parsing that Brian was indeed a genie--and the suppressed desire for him despite that--into something Dom could make sense of. But these 'dreams' always felt way too real--more real than any dream he'd had his entire life. Each one was a sensory explosion of experiences he couldn't explain, of memories he didn't remember making. These images frustrated him but not in the same way as the most recent ones that left his heart aching for the lover he couldn't remember having.

"Hey, I remember that!" Brian chirped, pulling Dom from his thoughts. He slipped a hand into Dom's and tugged him away from a shelf of odds and ends, oblivious to the effect the simple gesture had on him. 

It wasn't that they'd never touched, just not like this; like they were a couple. But maybe he was over-thinking it because Brian was already chattering on about the lavish parties he'd seen these things at, paying absolutely zero attention to the fact he was still holding Dom's hand as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. 

Forcing himself to focus on anything but the satisfying warmth of Brian's hand, Dom stared at the object displayed in front of him. The tag claimed the thing was an urn though not in any sense he was familiar with. Suspended on four legs, the large silver vessel was covered in ornate designs and had a spigot attached to its base, crystal glasses around it suggesting its purpose. Below the neatly written description on the tag was a price he'd mistaken as the date the urn had been made.

The entire place reeked of money, filled with objects that commanded no less than three figure prices; the kind of place he'd never remember because he'd never enter. But on their way to lunch, a glass bottle in the antique shop's window had caught Brian's eye. The bottle was remarkably similar to his own though in red and orange glass instead and missing a matching stopper. A Turkish tea set caught his attention after that, and the next thing Dom knew he was following the genie inside.

"Something I can help you gentlemen with?" an accented voice asked from behind. Turning, Dom found the owner of the voice was as cultured as he sounded, dressed in a tailored suit and his longish dark hair neatly combed back. The man's smile was warm, though his prominent canines suggested a more feral nature hidden under all that polish. 

Brian turned then. "Oh, we're just looking," he said, offering the man a lop-sided smile.

Expression faltering for a second before he regained his composure, the man encouraged them to ask if they should need anything, and then politely excused himself. 

The longer they stayed in the store, the more Dom's skin felt like it was crawling. Why had there been recognition in that man's eyes when he got a good look at Brian? And why was another hazy dream fogging the edge of his brain? It was like his mind insisted something here was important to him--to them--but that something was too vague to decipher. 

He needed to get out of here.

"Okay, Buster," Dom said, taking advantage of the fact their hands were still joined and giving the genie a gentle tug, "let's get outta here before Mia chews us out for bein' late."

*   *   *

Hearing a low whistle from the front of the shop, Owen smiled as he set aside the tablet he'd been working on and went to investigate. As expected, he was immediately met by his lover who crashed their lips together in a dizzying kiss.

"And who was that, cariño?" Carter purred, blue eyes raking over him as though it were their first time meeting all over again. 

"I have no idea, darling." Owen smoothed a hand over the ruby colored silk tie he'd bought Carter as a gift. "Maybe you should tell me."

"Just because I'm a genie doesn't mean I personally know every other genie I encounter. Besides," Carter said, hooking a finger on Owen's belt and tugging him to his chest, "I think I'd remember one like him." 

That wicked, teasing glint Owen so loved flashed in Carter's eyes before he sealed their lips again, this time with a growl that stoked the growing fire in Owen's belly. Five long hours and then they could pick up where they'd left off this morning. Well, assuming his brother didn't find more work for him, that was.

As if reading his mind, Deckard appeared then from the back room, scowl in place as usual. "There's plenty of new items that still need cataloging if you're that bored," he said, dropping into the desk chair with a huff. He set his phone down and rummaged through the stack of paperwork on the desk.

"For your information," Carter said, peeling away from Owen and perching on the edge of the desk, "we were plenty entertained until you interrupted." He poked through a cup of pens for no reason other than to test Deckard's patience, and got his hand swatted away, which only prompted him to hop off the desk and drape himself over Deckard's shoulders instead.

Owen pressed his lips together against a smile. The genie was more feline than anything, always finding a way to draw attention to himself, particularly around Deckard who he always got a rise from. But Deckard's eternal annoyance with the genie's antics stemmed from something much darker that simmered under his cool exterior.

It had been two years ago when they'd received the shipment of antiques they'd purchased from an estate sale in Spain. Part of the collection included a then-unremarkable chipped bottle Deckard had cast aside, declaring it worthless and letting Owen do whatever he wanted with it. Confident the damaged bottle needed only a good cleaning to make an interesting display piece for his condo, Owen took it home and gave it a good scrubbing. The last thing he'd expected when he pulled out the stopper was a cloud of red smoke and a handsome stranger sitting on his counter calling him 'master'. 

Keeping Carter a secret had been a futile effort. The headstrong genie had no reservations about mortals knowing what he was, but happily masqueraded as Owen's new boyfriend anyway. What started as a charade quickly turned real, and they were well on their way to Carter being freed by the time Deckard discovered the truth. He'd respected Owen's desire to be with the genie, though Owen knew it still bothered his brother that their places could've so easily been reversed had Deckard not tossed the bottle away. 

What Deckard wanted a genie for, Owen had no idea, but it definitely had nothing to do with love.

Shrugging Carter off, Deckard snatched up his phone and walked away, waving a hand in acknowledgement when Carter announced they were going to lunch. Carter took that as his cue to herd Owen out the door, saying nothing else until they were halfway down the street. 

"He knows how to undo your wish."

Owen froze. He'd only made one wish: Carter's freedom. "How do you know?" he asked, voice strangled in his throat.

"I saw it on his phone when he set it down."

Gut churning, the promise of food no longer appealed to him. "He wouldn't." His brother loved him and wanted him to be happy, or at least that's what he'd always thought. Deck wouldn't possibly try to steal Carter away from him, would he?

"How many other freed genies do you know of?" Carter asked gently.

Owen's heart sank. _None._ But if it was a genie his brother wanted, Owen already had another option in mind. Finding that blond genie, however, would take some work.


	4. Chapter 4

Brian threw himself onto the couch with a huff. Genie rules sucked. He hated having to play dumb around Dom when he knew exactly why the man was having all those strange dreams but, no, he wasn't allowed to explain unless he wanted some cosmic judge to zap him from existence as punishment for meddling in the affairs of beings who controlled the universe. 

It also wasn't lost on him who that man they'd talked to at the antiques store was related to; he'd sensed that other older presence emanating from the store. If that man had a genie bottle in his possession, he knew what he had and wouldn't hesitate to use the genie inside to grant all his terrible wishes. Brian remembered filling those wishes--and how much blood stained his conscience afterwards. And that had been only one of that man's many appetites.

Seeing that bottle in the window had sparked something in him but it wasn't curiosity: Brian feared for the other genie.

Pulling his knees to his chest, Brian huddled in the corner of the couch, trying to ignore the weight of the metal bands around his wrists. He hated them too, the way they bound him to masters both kind and cruel. Worthless genie rules--what good were they when they never benefited the genies themselves? Despite his terrible deeds, though, karma must have finally sorted itself out and he thanked his lucky stars that it was Dom's hands he'd landed in this time around. 

The creak of floorboards underfoot drew his attention, and he glanced up just as Dom disappeared into the kitchen. A beam of light from the fridge brightened the dark room for a few moments, and then it was gone. When Dom appeared this time, two glasses of water in hand, he offered one to Brian before sitting next to him.

Brian took the glass and scooted closer to Dom so their sides touched. After waiting centuries for this chance, those few inches that had been between them felt like miles. Brian was tired of distance; tired of waiting. He wanted the safety and warmth of being held in those arms again and it didn't matter to him whether or not Dom remembered the nights they'd spent together once upon a time. 

Genie laws forbade him from telling Dom the truth, but they didn't say anything about trying to help jog his memory.

With a snap of his fingers, the glass in Dom's hand transported itself to the end table while Brian climbed slowly into his lap, pausing for a second when he felt Dom tense before continuing. "Couldn't sleep?" Brian asked innocently, plucking at the threadbare tank top he'd come to love for how well it showed off those broad shoulders and muscular arms. Dom was brawnier than his previous self but Brian loved him either way.

Shaking his head, Dom's lips twitched into a lazy smile as he relaxed. "Nah," he drawled, settling his hands on Brian's thighs, "too busy thinkin' about you." He massaged small circles with his thumbs, hands never straying from where they were planted, much to Brian's disappointment.

Genies had needs too, although he appreciated how careful Dom always was not to pressure him into anything. It was the rare master, in his experience, who treated a genie with such kindness and respect. 

"I am pretty unforgettable," Brian replied, teasing. He set his hands on Dom's shoulders and scooted closer, huffing a laugh when Dom's eyebrows shot up. 

"Bri--"

He silenced Dom with a feathery brush of lips that left no question about his desires.

What reservations he had about Dom when they'd first met quickly faded when his new master insisted on his freedom despite the technicality that it was only an illusion. Days turned into weeks, and the more time they spent together the more certain he was that Dom was the same man he'd loved all those centuries ago--a different body in a different time but the same heart. When Dom had made an offhanded remark about 'these damned visions', Brian knew without a doubt it was him.

"I wish I could figure out why it feels like we already knew each other." Taking Brian's face on his hands, Dom let out a sigh before pulling Brian to his mouth. It was tenderness and electricity; each kiss delivered with such precision and fervor that he almost plied the answer from Brian when their tongues curled together. Before he could, though, Brian pulled away, panting.

"So, uh, is that your first wish?"

Dom's eyes widened. "What? No! I take it back!"

"Don't worry about it. Can't grant it anyway," Brian said, offering an apologetic smile. "Genie rules." He ducked his head and captured Dom's lips in another heated kiss. Fingers tightened in his hair, drawing a soft moan from his throat before giving a gentle tug.

"So what do yer genie rules say about me takin' you to bed?"

"Oh, they encourage that," Brian said with a grin. "In fact--" 

In one swift move, Dom pinned him to the couch before he could finish. The weight on top of him was a comfortable one and Brian arched up into him, clawing at his back, desperate to feel Dom's bare flesh against his own. A snap of his fingers would easily solve the clothing problem but where was the fun in that? He didn't want to think about being a genie right now; didn't want to think about how easily this all could be taken from him.

* * *

"You realize this is one of the worst possible things I could do against my own kind, right?" Carter asked once he'd solidified into his human form.

Owen waved away the lingering wisps of red smoke; any other time he loved the scent of cigars and spice that surrounded the genie like an intoxicating halo but tonight he feared it would give them away. "And yet here we are," he muttered under his breath. 'Here' being the home of a certain Dominic Toretto and his genie, which Carter had slipped into and unlocked for Owen.

Tracking down the blond genie had initially seemed a daunting task, though it was no different than the legwork required to find some of the rare, and one-of-a-kind pieces for the shop. Daunting, yes, but not impossible. Frustrated and exhausted after a particularly rough day of minding the shop and searching leads that all resulted in dead ends, he decided a long overdue break to clear his mind was in order. Word among the local street-racing community was that there'd be a race that night, and he was eager to check it out since he'd yet to attend one in this city. 

He'd had nothing prior to joining the SAS, but racing filled the void left when he'd been discharged. And now he was a boring antiques dealer who'd sacrificed his hobby to invest more time in the shop while Deckard was away procuring more items for their clientele. Owen missed having time to work on his cars; missed the thrill of the clandestine meetings. It'd be good for him to get out and reconnect with his one passion in life. 

Expecting nothing more than a much-needed dose of adrenaline, it was to his surprise to find Toretto there with the blond genie in tow. Being unknown in those circles, it was easy for himself and Carter to go unnoticed as spectators, and so they'd enjoyed the diversion until they'd called it a night. A quick internet search on his phone and they had Toretto's address before they even made it home. 

Carter led the way around a corner and into the dining room where their prize waited. "Like hell I'm ever going to call your brother 'master'," he spat. "Or anyone else for that matter."

Owen didn't want that either. Why else would Deckard have instructions for capturing a freed genie if not to use them? He refused to loan out his lover, regardless who wanted him or how many promises were made that he'd be unharmed. Carter was his diamond in the rough and he'd do anything to keep his treasure safe.

Creeping around the dining table and coming up behind Carter, he gave his lover's arm a reassuring squeeze before reaching for the blue and green bottle sitting on the table by the window. Genies were tied to one bottle for their entire existence--even freed ones like Carter, who still drew some energy and comfort from his--so there was no need to trap the genie inside the bottle before it changed hands. When a new master rubbed the bottle, that invisible link reeled the genie through space and time and back to its bottle. It struck Owen as a faulty system, though Carter assured him certain rules and the relative rarity of genies kept in check what could otherwise be disastrous results.

Owen pushed the stopper back into the mouth of the bottle, and then stuffed it into his jacket's inner pocket, his conscience niggling at him the entire time. This genie had seemed like a nice, innocent guy who didn't deserve this but he couldn't think of any other way to protect Carter.

Once safely home, though, the guilt made it impossible for him to sleep. His slate would never be clean after the things he'd done in the military but that didn't mean he should compound his sins. "We don't have to go through with this," he said to the darkness.

The mattress creaked and Carter's warm body draped across his. "Do you have another plan?" Carter's voice was even rougher with sleep, the sound curling around Owen's gut and tightening until his mind's focus narrowed to the open-mouthed kisses against his throat.

Huffing a laugh, Owen turned his head to give Carter better access. "I hope you're not expecting an answer because I can't think anymore." He felt Carter's lips curve into a smile against his skin.

"Doesn't matter to me," Carter murmured, propping himself up on an elbow.

"Aren't you worried, though?" Owen slid a hand down Carter's spine, gasping when teeth grazed over a nipple. It took a second for him to catch his breath before clarifying. "I don't know what else to do. If Deck intends to use that spell, I'll lose you." One such caveat regarding the switching of hands was that a genie couldn't have the same master twice; if Carter was forced back into servitude, there was no guarantee that Owen could release him.

"We could wait before giving him the bottle," Carter mused. "He's leaving tomorrow, which would give us a couple of days to dig through his office and see what he's really up to. If we can't find anything by then, we come up with a story about how the bottle got here and let him have it."

"And you would be okay handing that genie over to him for God knows what reason?"

Carter was silent for a moment before he laid back down and pulled Owen into a hug, tangling their legs together and closing every space between them as though he were hanging on for dear life. "It's him or me, _querido_ , and I'm not breaking my promise to you." A shiver rolled through Owen when Carter whispered in his ear. "Forever."


	5. Chapter 5

Brian woke to a queasy feeling in his stomach and an all consuming exhaustion despite knowing he got plenty of sleep. He hated feeling like this but it wasn't anything a nap in his bottle later couldn't fix. Any other master and he'd pop into his bottle right now without any regrets. Dom wasn't just any master, though, and after last night Brian was in no hurry to leave his side.

If last night didn't spark something in Dom's mind, Brian would be surprised because it had felt so much like those nights when he would sneak out of his master's extravagant bedchamber to spend time with the man who loved him. Sometimes all they did was spend the night in each other's embrace, wishing on shooting stars that those cosmic judges would intervene and let them be together. Other times, like last night, there was not enough words to express what they wanted to say. Closing his eyes again, Brian tucked his head under Dom's chin and tried to go back to sleep. 

He woke again sometime later to Dom's hands smoothing over every inch of bare skin within reach, not in a sexual manner but a gentle touch that spoke of safety and affection. Though he still felt under the weather, Brian hummed contentedly. It had been too long since a master had treated him as more than a plaything.

"Mornin', Buster."

Feeling a kiss pressed to his hair, Brian smiled and rubbed his cheek against Dom's chest. Tipping his head back, Brian returned the kiss with one of his own to Dom's jaw. "Mornin'."

Dom leaned away to meet his eyes, but his brows furrowed. "You okay?"

"Just been usin' my powers too much, I guess." Brian yawned and offered a sleepy smile but Dom's frown deepened as he smoothed Brian's hair back.

"Really?" Dom asked. "You've barely used 'em in the last week."

Brian started to explain but then stopped. He hadn't used his powers much at all the entire time he'd been here because he didn't need to; he was enjoying the novelty of feeling like a human who accomplished things through their own strength rather than magic.

Dom pulled away then, much to Brian's displeasure. Sick or not, he couldn't think of anything better than to spend the whole day like this. Watching the muscles in Dom's back shift as he climbed out of the bed, Brian bit his lip against a smile and failed. Oh, the ways they could entertain themselves.

"You go recharge while I get a shower and make breakfast."

"But what if I wanna help?" Brian asked, sheets pooling in his lap as he sat up and set his hands on Dom's hips. Turning, Dom leaned over and captured Brian's lips in a kiss so tender it made his heart ache with longing. Why didn't Dom remember him?

"Later," was all Dom said before he disappeared into the bathroom. Brian huffed at that and hauled himself out of bed as well.

Wearing nothing but the sheet he'd swiped from the bed to wrap around himself, Brian thumped down the stairs, making a beeline for the dining room where his bottle should be getting just the right amount of morning sunlight about now--not too hot or cold. Perfect for a power nap. He pulled up short, though, when he didn't see his bottle in its usual place.

The overall sick feeling settled in his gut as he searched the entire room to no avail. The last place he'd seen the bottle was on the table where he always left it, he was sure of it. He poked his head into the kitchen and living room but his bottle was nowhere to be found.

"Have you seen my bottle?" Brian asked when he made it back to the bedroom just as Dom was pulling on a pair of jeans.

"It's in the dining room."

Brian shook his head, regretting it when he suddenly felt dizzy. He sat on the end of the bed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on Dom squeezing his shoulder and asking if he was okay. No, he wasn't, and he feared he wouldn't be until they found his bottle.

*   *   *

Deckard's office turned out to be a bust. They'd searched every inch of the space, including his secret hiding places, but nothing the least bit nefarious turned up. Still didn't prove his innocence in Owen's mind. His brother was up to something and they couldn't rest comfortably until they found out what. And what if handing him the other genie wasn't the solution, and he wanted a freed genie instead? What the difference was, Owen didn't know nor did he want to find out.

"Upstairs?" Carter suggested.

Owen glanced at his watch. "It will have to be quick, though. He should be back in an hour."

Carter snapped his fingers and the room reset itself to how it had looked before they'd torn through it. Not a trick Owen ever thought would come in handy but he was glad for it now. Deckard didn't need to know they'd been snooping, especially when it so far seemed that he was innocent. So what if Deckard had instructions for enslaving freed genies? Maybe it was simple curiosity, or research he'd done on behalf of someone else. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with them. And maybe it had everything to do with them and it was only a matter of time before Carter was stolen from him. He wasn't going to sit idly by when there was something he could do about it.

Following Carter's trail of red smoke, he climbed the stairs to Deckard's flat on the second level of the building. Like all the buildings surrounding the antiques shop, each one was three stories with a store occupying the lowest level and offices or living spaces comprising the other two. Wanting to maintain a life separate from his job and his older brother, Owen opted for his own residence elsewhere rather than calling the third floor home.

The solid wood door swung open to reveal Carter smiling back at him with one of those cocky, self-satisfied grins Owen loved. Genies had personalities as unique as any human so you never knew what you'd be dealing with after setting one loose. He was glad to have wound up with a vibrant, outspoken, and mischievous genie who was a perfect foil for his mellow personality. Didn't hurt that Carter was also one of the most attractive men Owen had ever seen.

Together, they poked around but again came up empty. Owen headed for the stairs to the third level but paused when he heard Carter whistle in surprise. He spun around and raced back to the living room to find Carter running a hand along the back side of a bookcase.

"What in the world are you doing?" Owen asked.

"There's something back there but I can't quite reach it. Feels like a--" Carter's tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth for a moment before his lips curved into a smile. There was a soft click, and Owen jumped back as the bookcase swung toward him. Behind it was a staircase he never knew existed since the massive bookcase had been there when Deckard bought the place.

Pulling the bookcase closed behind them, the stairwell went black. Owen swore as he stumbled on the next step as he tried to find his footing, throwing his arms out to right himself before reaching for the railing. The stairs creaked underfoot as though they hadn't been used in years. Did Deckard know this was here? It smelled pleasantly musty, though not as much as he expected it to if it'd been closed up until now.

The door at the top of the stairs was locked, forcing Carter to again turn into a cloud of smoke so he could unlock it from the other side. From the sunlight beaming through the window of the concealed room, Owen noticed the exhaustion settling into Carter's features. "Feel okay, love?" he murmured as he touched Carter's cheek. All this transforming and cleaning up after them had to be wearing on him.

Carter leaned into the touch, nuzzling against his hand like an affectionate house cat. "Just need to rest after this."

"Soon," Owen said against Carter's lips, smiling when he felt Carter's lips curve into a smile under his. They wouldn't have time to search upstairs so he hoped they found something here before they'd have to leave to avoid Deckard. Glancing over Carter's shoulder, he had a feeling the odds were finally in their favor.

The room couldn't have been more than the width of two doors, more walk-in closet than anything. An old wooden work bench lined most of the wall to their left, littered with papers and stacks of books. Above the bench was shelves with more books and unmarked bottles filled with multicolored liquids. Peculiar, but it was the area in front of the window overlooking the street that drew his attention.

Owen's eyes widened as he recognized a large pentagram drawn in chalk on the floor. All but two points of the star had familiar glass bottles sitting on them, sunlight shining through them and painting the space in a rainbow of colors.

"We can't take them," Owen said. "It would be too obvious."

"What? We can't leave them here!"

Owen cocked an eyebrow at his lover. "Weren't you the one okay with handing over another genie?"

"Yeah, _one_ genie, O--not three. And I recall you being the one to come up with that stupid idea in the first place."

"If you had a better idea, I didn't hear it," Owen retorted.

Carter huffed and knelt next to the purple bottle. He touched it, yelping in surprise when it shocked him and yanking his hand away. Owen set his hand on Carter's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Any idea what he might be doing with them?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

A chill skittered up Owen's spine. "Deck!" He quickly plastered on a fake smile as he turned toward his brother. "How was your trip?"

In truth, Deckard's words stung. Deck had changed in the last few years and it wasn't limited to the underlying jealousy over Carter. Owen had noticed the change, but it was nothing that couldn't be easily explained away as a bad day, and if Deck was being an asshole, Owen had no problem giving it right back. It's what they'd always done.

But then he'd noticed the occasional bad day became more frequent until those became the norm rather than the exception. Deckard had gotten meaner too. They were brothers but it suddenly felt like they were complete strangers who were constantly at odds; it felt like he was being shut out and he couldn't understand how or why that happened. Where had the older brother who'd bandaged scraped knees, stayed up late with him when he was sick, and taught him everything he knew about cars gone?

Deckard ignored the question and set the book he was carrying down on the work bench. He threw open the cover and thumbed through the yellowed pages for a moment before finding whatever it was he was looking for. Curious, Owen started toward him but stopped when his brother looked at him. Whatever warmth used to be in his eyes was now replaced by something cold and menacing, and it suddenly occurred to him this somehow wasn't Deckard at all.

Owen took a step back, bumping into Carter as he did.

"I didn't want you to see this," Deckard said calmly, as though he were having a normal conversation, "but I guess it doesn't matter now." Pulling something from his pocket, he moved toward them.

Carter got between them but it didn't stop Deckard, who pressed whatever it was in his hand to Carter's chest, a wild gleam in his eyes. Owen buried his face in Carter's neck to shield himself from the bright flash that followed. When he finally opened his eyes, Owen's stomach lurched. Wide gold bands encircled Carter's wrists--the same as those he'd had when they first met. This time, however, Carter had a new master.

"You bastard!" Owen howled as he lunged for Deckard. Carter stopped him, though, dejection clouding his blue eyes as he pushed Owen backwards.

"Bring me the other genie, and then you can have Carter back when I'm done. I'm just...borrowing him is all."

Owen clenched his fists at his sides, resisting the urge to beat that cocky grin from Deckard's face.

"You don't have to do it, cariño," Carter murmured, the quiet rumble of his words smoothing the edges of Owen's anger. He didn't want to turn the genie over to his brother after what he'd seen, but what other choice was there? Deckard didn't know they already had the other bottle, so perhaps they could use that to their advantage and buy themselves time to find a way out of this mess.

"Fine," Owen bit out. "But I'll need Carter's help."

Deckard waved them away as though they were nothing more than annoying flies. "I'll give you a day. After that, I'll take care of things myself."


	6. Chapter 6

As the hours passed, Dom's concern for Brian grew. The genie had assured him the malaise was easily remedied, which would've been fine except they never found his bottle. The last place it'd been was in the dining room, same as it had been for weeks after Brian decided it was the perfect spot for the occasional afternoon cat nap--something about it having the right temperature and lighting for his chakras, he'd said. It all sounded kind of hokey to Dom but whatever made Brian happy made him happy, so that's where the bottle remained.

But Brian was getting worse, and it pained him that there was nothing he could do to help.

Carding his fingers through the genie's mess of flaxen curls, Dom managed a weak smile despite their current predicament. He still couldn't believe the bottle that'd been a fixture in the Toretto household for most of his life secretly held a genie he'd one day love. And that's what this was, he was sure of it. Brian was the kind of guy he never in a million years would have dreamed being his type, yet now couldn't imagine living without. He needed Brian like he needed air, breathing life back into him after too many years alone with an emptiness he'd never quite figured out how to fill. 

_This_ is what he'd been missing. Love. Not for just anyone, though--for the man his heart still remembered when his mind didn't.

Brian rolled onto his back then, blinking half-lidded eyes at him. "What're ya so happy about?" The corners of his mouth tugged upward in an almost smile.

"Just thinkin' about how I love you."

It took a moment for that to sink in before Brian's eyes widened. He pushed himself up with Dom's help, taking Dom's face in his hands and searching his eyes.

Brian chewed at his lip. "Does that mean you'll..."

"I wish for your freedom, Bri."

Tears welled in the genie's eyes, leaving wet trails down his cheeks that glistened like liquid gold as the cuffs around his wrists began to glow. A second later the cuffs disappeared in a burst of light they both closed their eyes against.

"You meant it," Brian said as he opened his eyes, his voice shaking as he bit back a sob. "You really meant it."

"'Course I did," Dom said, gathering Brian in his arms and hugging him tight. "No more of this master business for you."

Lifting one of Brian's arms to his lips, Dom pressed a kiss to the underside of his wrist. Whether Brian ultimately stuck around didn't matter to him. He could deal with another broken heart, but Brian didn't deserve a life where he was passed between masters when he was no longer useful to them. If sparing Brian more of that life was the only thing that came of his love, he would be satisfied.

Brian flung his arms around Dom's neck, showering him with kisses and thank-yous that warmed Dom's heart. If Brian stuck around like Dom hoped he would, though, he had a feeling life was going to get very interesting very fast--and he couldn't wait to experience every minute of it.

The moment was short-lived, however, when the doorbell rang, drawing Dom's attention away from Brian. Who was coming by at this time of night? He reluctantly got up from the couch to answer the door. Brian followed, peeking through the blinds. "It's the guy from the antiques store. And a genie!" Brian chirped. They shared a confused look before Dom motioned for Brian to hide in the dining room.

When he opened the door, Dom was surprised to find a disgruntled looking antiques dealer. "Something I can do for ya...Owen was it?"

Owen nodded, and then quickly introduced the genie, who looked less than thrilled to be there. "I believe you...lost something," Owen said, pulling Brian's bottle out from behind his back.

Fighting the urge to tackle the guy and get the bottle back, Dom shook his head. "No idea what yer--"

"My bottle!" Brian shot out the door but Dom hooked an arm around his waist and hauled him back before he could get far. So much for subtlety. "Where'd you find it?"

Dom narrowed his eyes at Owen and Carter. "We stole it," the latter deadpanned before Owen could get a word out.

Owen's mouth snapped shut as he glanced at Carter. "Since when do you have a conscience?" he hissed.

Carter lifted his arms, the gold cuffs around his wrists reflecting the glow of the porch light. "Since your brother decided to be a dick." The genie crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. "It's been a bad day for me, okay?" he grumbled. Owen's expression softened at that and he gave Carter's arm a pat. For a split second Dom swore he saw a flicker of something in Owen's eyes, sadness perhaps. These two were something, alright--trouble mostly, he suspected.

The muscle in Carter's jaw jumped. "Just give 'em back the bottle, O, we can't do this to a freed genie." 

Brian twisted his fingers in Dom's shirt and pressed against him as though he'd be snatched away if he didn't hang on to something. "Can't do what?" Brian asked slowly, never letting go of Dom as he reached for the bottle when Owen finally handed it over.

Owen heaved a sigh. "Can we come in to explain?" 

Dom was about to refuse when Brian nodded and nudged him away from the door, hugging the bottle to his chest as he let the part-time thieves in. Yes, life was definitely going to be interesting when Brian already had him wrapped around his finger.

* * *

Brian felt like a bundle of tired, irritable nerves by the time Owen and Carter left. While he intended to do whatever he could to help the other genies, he wanted to curse the cosmos for throwing this at him right when he should be celebrating his freedom.

What luck.

Feeling Dom's arms wrap around him from behind, though, Brian melted into the welcome support.

"Let's go to bed," Dom murmured in his ear, the soft rumble in his throat suggesting he had more than sleep on his mind. Brian did too, eager for a reprise of last night despite the lingering exhaustion, but there was something else on his mind he wanted to take care of first.

Turning, Brian threw his arms around Dom's neck and smiled up at him. "I wanna show you something." Brian snapped his fingers and the two of them were transported from the living room to the inside of his bottle.

Dom blinked when the smoke cleared, recognition in his eyes as he puzzled this out in his mind. "I remember this," Dom said slowly as he scanned the circular room. Persian rugs covered the floor in a haphazard array of color and ornate patterns. There were couches and ottomans and cushions covered in heaps of mismatched pillows, the largest piece of furniture doubling as a bed that was partially hidden from view by a folding screen and a miniature date palm. Books and lamps littered the space, the only objects he kept besides a tiny mechanical bird Dom had made for him. Brian hadn't changed his bottle's interior much over the centuries, preferring to preserve it in memory of the only bright spot he'd ever had in his life. The place was warm and comfortable, much like the relationship they once had.

Dom gently extricated himself from Brian's arms and wandered around the space in a daze, fingers brushing over every object within reach as though touching them would unlock his memories. "I remember you hiding me here so we wouldn't get caught." He snorted at that and closed his eyes when his fingertips landed on the bird. A brief moment later his eyebrows knitted together. "I remember...being afraid for you."

Brian slipped his hand into Dom's. "Are you afraid for me now?" He hugged Dom's arm and rested his head on Dom's shoulder, lowering his voice to an almost whisper. "'Cause I'm terrified." Regardless how well they planned, the fact of the matter was that his chance of disappearing forever was far greater than him making it out of this alive. And what 'forever' entailed, he didn't know nor did he want to find out.

"You don't have to do this, Bri."

"I know, but how long will it be before Deckard finds a fifth genie? They're like family to me, Dom--I can't turn my back on em when I'm the only one who might be able to help." 

Dom pulled him into a hug and smoothed his hand over Brian's back. "How can you believe anything those two say after what they did?"

"Because they could've handed my bottle over as soon as they got it but didn't," Brian reminded him. "They--what's that phrase you use? fucked up?--and admitted as much." Not that it gave Owen and Carter a complete pass but it also didn't condemn them either. Anyone who could fess up like they had deserved the benefit of the doubt as far as he was concerned.

It was something more subtle, though, that led Brian to believe they were being truthful. It was how the world around them didn't seem to exist when they were in each other's space; it was the affection and pain and frustration he sensed in every word and shared gaze. In all his centuries, he'd never seen anyone who could convincingly fake love for another, and he was sure what Owen and Carter had was real. When that love was threatened, Brian believed they'd acted as they had to protect it. He didn't agree with their choice, but he didn't feel he could fault them either when there didn't seem to be malice behind the intent.

"You're really serious about doing this, aren't you?"

Brian nodded. Though his heart still warred between saving himself and saving the genies, he knew he'd never be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to save them.

Dom's lips ghosted over his. "Guess we'll have to make tonight count then."

As their lips slid together, Brian tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind. _Because it might be the last._


	7. Chapter 7

Sixteen hours--that was all the time Brian got to be free before he'd had to pop back into his bottle for God knew what to happen. Assuming his fate was anything like Carter's, Dom suspected Brian's freedom was null by now. The thought made his blood boil. He would've stormed up to Deckard's workshop and taken care of things himself if not for one complication Owen knew of--Deckard would sense his past life like a dog sniffing out a bone well before they could get near him.

Dom huffed an exasperated sigh as he watched Owen's brows furrow. "I thought you said you knew how to do this."

"I said I was learning. Magic is not my first skill," Owen answered, eyes scanning the worn tome in his hands.

"Too busy honing your breaking and entering skills?"

"Would you please shut up already so I can concentrate?"

Dom bit his tongue against another retort. They were running out of time but Owen was his only chance at getting to Brian undetected. If Owen couldn't get the cloaking spell right, however, they were going to have to give up and resort to plan B--barge in and hope for the best.

After another failed attempt, Owen swore and slammed the book down on the table in front of him. Gripping the edge of the table, he hung his head. "I can't do it." His shoulders slumped. "He stole Carter from me and I can't do a bloody thing about it."

Dom snapped his fingers in front of Owen's face and hazel eyes looked up at him. "You can do it but you're too caught up worryin' about him right now." Owen opened his mouth to protest but Dom cut him off before he could get a word out. "Focus on this right now," he said, pointing at the book between them. "Make me undetectable first, and then we'll have a real chance at saving them."

"This could take all day at the rate I'm going."

"Well we ain't got all day, so you quittin' on Carter or what?"

"Of course I'm not quitting on him!" Owen spluttered, indignant.

"Then get readin'."

Owen narrowed his eyes at Dom before closing them and drawing a deep breath. He didn't open them as the words to the spell fell from his lips, including the one he always stumbled on. The book's pages fluttered, brought to motion by a sudden breeze in the enclosed room. This was it--it had to be--but Dom held his breath anyway.

Goosebumps raised on his skin, though not from any chill. He glanced at his hands, expecting to see them glowing but they looked as they always did. Magic hummed beneath his skin, invisible and powerful. Owen, though, was leaning on the table for support, exhausted from what he'd claimed to be a simple spell. That didn't bode well for them if he needed to cast any more.

"You okay?" Dom asked, offering Owen a hand.

Pushing himself up, Owen nodded though he looked dazed. "Didn't know it would do that." He closed the book, slid it into his messenger bag, and slung the bag over his shoulder as he walked past Dom. "That will give us an hour at most before it wears off but I make no guarantees."

Dom followed him out the door. From here they would drive to the antique shop and get upstairs before Deckard harmed the genies. Brian and Carter's job was to buy them time, so hopefully Deckard believed their little white lie about Owen not being there because he couldn't bear to watch.

Settling into the driver seat, Dom started the car, clenching the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. _Hang on, Bri, I'm coming._

 

* * *

 

"Would you get off that?" Deckard growled at Carter. The genie perched on the end of the work bench, touching everything within reach for no reason other than he could, Deckard included. The older Shaw seemed immune to the genie's antics, but Brian had to clap a hand over his mouth to smother a laugh. He liked Carter and hoped they could somehow be friends when this was all over.

Carter hopped off the bench then, catching his hand on a vial of blue liquid, feigning surprise when the vial shattered on the floor.

Deckard clenched his jaw. "Get in yer bottle."

"What? Why doesn't he have to?" Carter asked innocently, jerking a thumb in Brian's direction.

"Because he's not botherin' me."

It wasn't through the twisted goodness of Deckard's heart that he allowed Brian to stay out of his bottle, but that he wouldn't let him in. His bottle had remained stoppered while Carter's had not. Once Carter went inside his, though, Brian had no doubt that Deckard would trap him inside, leaving Brian alone with the man he thought he'd escaped centuries ago.

Carter rolled his eyes and shot Brian a look that said he was on his own before turning into a cloud of red smoke. Brian gulped as he watched the trail of smoke disappear into its bottle, Deckard following and stoppering the bottle just as Brian had guessed he would.

Time for a different approach.

Brian shadowed Deckard as he returned to the bench, wrapping his arms around the older man's waist and hugging him from behind. "Thank you, master," Brian purred, rubbing his cheek between Deckard's shoulder blades as he suppressed the urge to gag.

"And yet you repaid my benevolence by foolin' around with that stable master."

"But you killed him."

"And maybe I'll get to do it again." Deckard turned and cupped Brian's cheek in his hand. "But this time he won't find you when he's reborn because you'll no longer exist. You and all those other genies will become a part of me to make somethin' greater and more powerful than your individual selves."

Brian's stomach lurched. He didn't want to leave this plane of existence--not now--not when he'd barely tasted freedom. And certainly not to give this madman more power.

"But what about your brother?" Brian asked, desperate to keep Deckard talking.

"He's no brother of mine. He's a fool with little ambition, who squandered the potential of a genie by freein' it."

Deckard's words cut Brian like a knife. Though he wanted Dom and Owen to get here already, he was glad Owen couldn't hear his brother berate him. Deckard was now Owen's brother only in appearance--he'd ceased to be the person he once was when his past life reawakened. Most people--those like Dom--acknowledged their past lives to some degree or another and co-existed peacefully with their other selves, while those like Deckard were consumed. There was nothing random about it--so long as one past self was villainous, it would always manifest itself until it was destroyed.

Deckard lowered his hand to Brian's chin, considering him for a moment before he spoke again. "Time to get in yer bottle."

Glancing between Deckard and his bottle on the floor, Brian flashed him the most fearful puppy eyes he could manage--easy considering he wasn't acting. "No, master, please"--he clutched at Deckard's shirt and pulled them together, burying his face in Deckard's neck--"I promise I'll behave."

_Where are you guys?_

"I'll have no need for a genie once this is done." Deckard tried prying Brian off to no avail.

"None at all?" Brian dragged a finger down Deckard's throat. "Surely you remember all the other things I'm good at."

A growl rumbled deep in Deckard's throat as he finally managed to extricate himself from Brian. He went to pull the stopper from the bottle and motioned for Brian to get in.

Chewing at his lip, Brian reluctantly obeyed. Not that he had any choice in the matter.

 

* * *

 

"Fool?" Owen hissed. "That son of a--" Dom clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the impending outburst.

"Be quiet," Dom growled in warning. The last thing they needed was for Deckard to find them here in the stairwell. And considering Owen's magical aptitude, they needed all the advantages they could get.

Owen narrowed his eyes and huffed. Taking that as his agreement to behave, Dom released him and knelt to peer through the old keyhole. Deckard's back was to the door, which provided the perfect opportunity for him to try the knob. To his surprise, the knob turned and he gave it a gentle push to open the door a crack.

"And he calls me the fool," Owen muttered under his breath.

To be fair, Deckard had insulted both of them and threatened Dom's life, both things he'd pushed to the back of his mind to process later. He couldn't let Deckard--or whoever this guy really was--get to him, not now.

Drawing a shaky breath, Dom tamped down his own anger at having to wait until Brian got in his bottle. Any sooner and Deckard would use Brian against him, which wouldn't do them any good--it'd only hurt Brian further, and they were powerless against a genie.

"D'you two really think I don't know yer out there?"

They shared a glance before Dom pushed open the door and stepped into the room, Owen right behind him. Strange symbols illuminated underfoot. Dom went to take another step but found he could no longer lift his feet as they were stuck to the floor.

So much for plan B.

His moment of frustration was short-lived, however, when Deckard turned to face them.

Memories flooded back then, crashing into him with the force of a tidal wave. The memories were his own though he still found that difficult to believe. How had he never remembered any of this other life until meeting Brian? He didn't recognize the body before him but he sensed the old spirit within, that of the power-hungry madman still drawn to magic and mayhem.

"I thought that was you." Deckard spared him a triumphant smirk and turned away again to flip through a book that looked much like the one Owen carried.

Owen reached for his copy but Deckard's voice gave him pause.

"Don't waste yer breath," Deckard said without looking at them. "That area's sealed against magic use, and I'm the only one who can release ya."

"Why are you doing this, Deck?" Owen asked. "Those genies never did anything to you."

For all his fire to save Carter and the other genies, the defeated tone in Owen's voice surprised Dom. Not that there seemed anything they could do in their current position but they weren't dead either. They could still be angry--they could still try something, anything. He refused to believe they'd lost when they were so close.

Staring at Brian's blue bottle, though, it seemed so far out of reach. Their only plan had been to destroy the amulet and snatch the bottles. Now all they could do was watch, helpless, as Deckard destroyed the genies in front of them. Maybe they'd be destroyed next.

Deckard stepped into the center of the pentagram, reading from the tome in his hands, lips forming whispered syllables that never met their ears. The words continued until the bottles glowed like beacons shooting up from the floor. Would the genies be released in the process so they could at least see them one last time?

As if answering Dom's curiosity, the bottles rattled against the floor before they burst. Dom threw his arm up and turned away to shield his face from the shrapnel. When he dared to look again, a cloud of colorful smoke shrouded Deckard. Turquoise wisps undulated in place for a moment before the sickly looking cloud absorbed them. Was Brian still with them? Did it hurt him?

Dom banged his fist against the wall. It wasn't fair! He'd found Brian again--freed him!--and yet here they were. He was losing to Deckard again and there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it this time. He rubbed at the sudden stab of pain over his heart--a reminder of how he'd lost the first time.

The colored smokes separated, four of them peeling away from Deckard, leaving him surrounded in an eerie blood red cloud that consumed his physical form. Laughter became screams as the cloud became a vortex, spinning in on itself until it disappeared in a blinding flash.

Finally freed from their invisible bonds, Dom and Owen went to inspect the circle. Feeling arms around his waist, though, Dom stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Brian beamed back at him.

"Miss me?"

Turning in Brian's arms, Dom planted a kiss on him that would leave no room for doubt. "Whaddya think, Buster?"

Angling his head to deepen the kiss, Brian molded their bodies together, clutching at Dom's shirt for dear life. He was desperate and hungry and needy, and this wasn't nearly enough for either of them. They needed to be back at the house, Brian in his arms, safe and loved and cherished like he deserved.

Someone cleared their throat then, drawing Dom's attention.

Arms crossed over his massive chest, the behemoth of a genie cocked an eyebrow at them. "As heartwarming as this reunion is," he deadpanned, "what about the rest of us?"

"You want a kiss too?" Dom snorted.

The dark-haired woman in green winked at him. "I'd take ya up on that offer."

"Back off, sister," Brian said, hugging Dom tighter and pointing at her in warning. "He's mine."

"Y'all got anything to eat?" the purple genie piped up. "I'm starvin' after all that resistin' the crazy dude."

Dom barked a laugh, relieved that it was all over and everyone was in good spirits. Everyone but Owen that was, who was kneeling on the floor, sifting through the shards. "You wanna get something to eat, Shaw?" Dom asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"No thank you. I should get this cleaned this up," Owen lied. There was emotion in his voice, but Dom pretended to not hear the cracks between words.

Brian glanced between them before he released Dom and gestured for the other genies to follow him downstairs. Unsure what to say, Dom just stood there for a few moments, waiting for Owen to break the silence. When he didn't, Dom took his leave, though not without extending an olive branch to the grieving man who'd lost far more than he deserved to.

"We're here if you ever need anything."

 

* * *

 

Squeezing his eyelids tight against the light that had woken him, Owen reached for a pillow to cover his head, wincing at the sharp pain that burst in his shoulder. All the more reason to go back to sleep. He felt like he'd been thrown down a flight of stairs, one giant exposed nerve that somehow hurt less than the empty hole where his heart once was. What he needed was sleep, at least until the hurting stopped.

A fresh sob wracked his frame when his hand landed on a pile of glass, every muscle and joint and bone wailing silently with him. He'd spent much of the day grieving the loss of the two most important people in his life--how were there any tears left to shed?

Finally forcing himself up, Owen brushed his hands on his jeans, body protesting every step of the way. Falling asleep on the cold wooden floor hadn't done him any favors. He rubbed a crick from his neck. Using a dusty old book as a pillow hadn't helped either.

Glancing up at the source of the light, a bright full moon shone through the window. Dust motes danced in its beams. And yet everything was still so dark and lifeless. He remembered the genie bottles being so colorful, though it'd never occurred to him that the vibrancy came from the genies themselves rather than the glass or a trick of the light.

Owen picked up a dark reddish shard and turned it over in his hand. He remembered Carter's bottle being a ruby red--a color as bold as the genie that had claimed that bottle. The color remained the same whether Carter was inside or not, as if the bottles were extensions of the genies. Perhaps they were. And once that link was gone, so too was the color.

The shard clinked among the rest when he tossed it away. What he needed was something to take his mind off his loneliness for awhile. He could do more cleaning, although he wasn't quite ready to erase what had happened here earlier in the day. Later. Until then, he would seal the place back up and try to forget what was behind that bookcase. Eyeing the spell book, a different idea came to mind.

Getting to his hands and knees, Owen swept the shards away from the pentagram with his hand, careful not to cut himself as he did so. Once the space was cleared, he sat down again and pulled the book into his lap, thumbing through the yellowed pages for a spell he might be able to manage.

Until Carter came along, he'd never believed in magic let alone that he might be able to use it himself. There was nothing magical about him--that was all Carter's business--so he'd thought Carter crazy when the genie encouraged him to try. Everyone could wield magic, Carter had assured him, but so few did because the key to magic was believing it existed. Loving a genie was proof enough for Owen, so rather than spending their last night together saying their goodbyes, they'd spent it poring over this book until he had some idea what he was doing.

Settling on a conjuring spell, he envisioned a porcelain tea cup from the store downstairs as he muttered the words to the spell. The pentagram began to glow as something formed in the center of it, and his eyes widened. Had he gotten a spell right on the first try? Was that even possible?

The object continued growing until it was a dark cloud about the same size as the pentagram. Rising, it drifted through the air and hovered above his head.

A second later he got rained on.

Definitely not a tea cup.

Red smoke filled the pentagram, and Owen groaned. Now what had he done wrong?

"What did I tell you about conjuring spells, cariño?"

Owen blinked, mostly to get water out of his eyes but also in disbelief. "Carter?"

"No," Carter chuckled. "Focus." He snapped his fingers although nothing happened as far as Owen could tell. "Hmm, guess they were right about that. Oh well. Looks like you're the only one that can stop that, O."

It took him a couple of tries but the rain finally stopped and the cloud dissipated. Tossing the book aside, Owen jumped to his feet and launched himself at Carter, who pulled him into a crushing embrace.

"Are you staying?"

Carter nodded and leaned away, turning Owen's arm to reveal a stretched figure-eight symbol tattooed on his wrist. Carter traced the lemniscate with his finger, his touch sending shivers along Owen's spine. "Let's just say that the powers that be are surprisingly generous when it comes to a genie sacrificing himself for the good of other genies, particularly those who restore the balance for them." Carter gave him a little self-satisfied smirk before lowering his eyes again. "They would have allowed me to return as a genie but that meant your fate stayed the same."

Owen looked at him quizzically. He didn't know what his fate was, though Carter's explanation gave him the impression it wasn't good.

Still tracing the lemniscate, Carter said, "I traded my life as a genie to make you infinite. Because you freed me, now we'll always find each other every time we're reincarnated."

Infinite? Reincarnation? Owen could hardly grasp the magnitude of the news. This was the only life he knew and now he'd have many until the end of time? Was there an end? How would they find each other? He had so many questions but only one mattered right now.

"And what about Deck?"

"His past life cursed him for destruction if he ever gave in to its desires. Somewhere along the way that life consumed him, so the man who died wasn't your brother."

"How did he die?" Owen asked quietly.

Carter's hesitation and refusal to meet his eyes was answer enough for him. Taking Carter's face in his hands, Owen touched their foreheads together. "I forgive you, love."

Carter's lips curved into a smile against his. "Thank you," he murmured, giving Owen another peck before hooking an arm around his waist and guiding him to the door.

"So how does this whole infinite mortal thing work anyway?" Owen asked once they'd pushed the bookcase back into place.

Carter turned and shrugged a shoulder. "Don't know," he said, taking a step forward into Owen's space and slip his hands under the hem of his soaked t-shirt. Feeling Carter's warm hands slide up his sides and push the shirt over his head, Owen realized he'd been so preoccupied that the chill of wet clothing hadn't registered in his mind. Now that it had, he shivered for a different reason.

Swiping the knitted blanket from the back of the couch, Carter threw it over Owen's shoulders like a cloak and pulled him to his chest.

"I could've dried myself off with a spell," Owen said with a chuckle.

"And you'd burn down the building trying. I'd prefer to enjoy this life for awhile before my next one, thank you very much." Mischief sparked in his blue eyes, and Owen barked a laugh.

"You arse."

"C'mon, let's go home and I'll show you a proper warming spell," Carter said with a playful leer.

Owen swatted him in the arm and pulled Carter after him. There would be time enough for that later. But first he wanted to pay Toretto a quick visit.


End file.
